


Sit Down and Buckle Up

by SassySnowperson (DramaticEntrance)



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Competence Kink, Concussions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 10:37:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,538
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16931709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DramaticEntrance/pseuds/SassySnowperson
Summary: When Han Solo finds himself hit over the head with a blackjack he's got no choice but to turn the piloting of his precious Falcon over to one Bodhi Rook. Bodhi, it turns out, is a very good pilot. Han, it turns out, is really into that.





	Sit Down and Buckle Up

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ANTchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANTchan/gifts).



> For [ANTchan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ANTchan/)'s birthday! HAPPY BIRTHDAY. 
> 
> Thanks to [RogueShadows](https://www.archiveofourown.org/users/rogueshadows/) for the beta!

Han blinked through the blinding pain, a staccato drumbeat of agony playing across his skull. He licked his lips and stared at the flight controls in front of him. He could do this. He could fly the Falcon blind! He could certainly fly her...dizzy. Han stepped forward, listing to the side as he tried to get to the pilot's chair. 

"Solo, what are you doing?" Rook hissed incredulously. 

"Don't think you want to be stuck in this Imperial hellhole," Han said, wishing that Bodhi would just stop talking. And that the sun would stop shining. And that everything would be soft and stop _moving_. "Gotta get the Falcon..." Han looked for his words, and found they had vanished. 

"Uh huh." Rook sounded skeptical. "Sit _down_." 

Rook's hand, surprisingly firm for how delicate it looked, found his chest, pressing him inexorably into the _copilot's_ seat." 

"I sit..." 

"The pilot sits here." Rook glared at him as he slid into the pilot's chair. Han's chair. 

"I'm—"

"The person who got _hit over his head with a blackjack_. You are concussed. Strap in," Rook ordered as he ran the startup sequence. 

"Not the first blackjack I've been hit with," Han protested, reaching for the controls. His ship. He flew it. 

Granted, the last time he'd been walloped quite this hard he'd been a teenager, and he was beginning to think his healing had slowed down a bit in the intervening years. 

"Han!" Rook snapped. "Buckle up and sit down." 

"She's my ship—" Han protested even as he was obediently sitting back in his chair. He was just confused by Bodhi using his given name. That was all.

"And you are going to crash her," Bodhi continued, not mollified by Han's slight collapse. "You can't even sit straight. If you don't keep your hands off those controls I swear I will _tie them to the arm rests._ " 

Han's body reacted to Bodhi's sharp growl, practically melting against the chair. It wasn't—he didn't think Bodhi was _right_ or anything. It was just...Han and Lando had had some fun in the Falcon along those lines, and his body was remembering. That was all. 

Han blinked at the controls, which seemed like they were all a little...too far to the left. 

Fine, maybe Bodhi hand a point. "Don't hurt my ship. And watch out, the ignition switch is a little tricky, you gotta hold it just a little to the right..." Han trailed off when as he watched Bodhi handle the ignition switch perfectly, curve of his thumb as he held it in place. 

"You just need some care, don't you sweetheart," Bodhi murmured to the ship. Bodhi smiled when he looked over at Han. "Don't worry, Han, I'll treat your lady right." 

Han blinked. When he had come to the Rebellion, Bodhi had been a twitchy little thing, half-covered in bandages and hiding in the back of medical, always shadowed by one of his friends or another, the stoic Andor, the surprisingly familiar Hallik (Erso—that's what she was calling herself these days), an Imp security droid that could give Chewie a run for his money, or a pair of mercenary monks. Strange friends, strange man, Han had stopped paying attention (except, maybe to Hallik; she had always been good in a fight, a newfound idealism didn't change that). 

Clearly, Han should have paid a bit better attention, if this is what Bodhi had become as he healed.

Bodhi ran through the ignition sequence smoothly, Falcon purring to life, and just as he was about to take off, a proximity alert pinged. Han looked up and cursed—two cruisers were entering atmosphere and Han was fairly certain he wasn't seeing double. They settled down into a blockade pattern. "Fuck," Han grumbled, reaching for the controls again. 

"I said sit down," Bodhi said, unphased.

"But there's—"

"I see them." Bodhi's hand found Han's chest again, this time even more forceful as he shoved Han back against the chair. "I've got this." That same hand settled on the yoke, firm and sure. Bodhi's long, elegant fingers wrapped around the metal. Han shivered. 

"Right," Bodhi said, looking at the sky with a small smile, "let's do this."

The Falcon jumped from her dock with a shiver of power, rattling running through the frame. "It's too much," Han snapped, but he knew even as he said it he was just fretting, the Falcon's engines sounded happy. 

Bodhi didn't even dignify that with a response, too busy darting his eyes from the transparisteel window to the controls with an intense look of concentration on his face. His tongue darted out over his lips and Han gripped the sides of the copilot's chair, as his mind was flooded with other reasons Bodhi might look that intent, the other things he wanted those lips, that tongue to do.

Han had always had strong reactions to dangerous situations. This was...misplaced adrenaline. And those cruisers were getting closer.

Bodhi's face sharpened and he gunned the power, charging the damn ships. 

Han's breath caught, it was too fast, they were too close, turbolaser fire juddering down the sides of the ship as they realized their prey was trying to escape. Bodhi threw the Falcon sideways between the two cruisers and milked even more power out of the engines, running for the black beyond the atmosphere. 

Han gasped as the Falcon barely scraped through the gap between the cruisers. And then a moment later, the cruisers were behind them, and Bodhi was laughing. His eyes were sparkling, there was a vicious grin on his face and he was...

Han had never been a good Corellian churchboy. Lady Proxima would have laughed herself sick at the idea of one of her urchins serving at the altar. But, if pressed, before today—before this moment—Han would have said that he could see Bodhi as The Merciful Teacher, the kindly deity that graced the stained glass windows of the cathedrals that soared above the muck. But now, echoes of his whoops ringing in the Falcon's cockpit, Bodhi reminded Han of nothing so much as the older gods, the ones passed into legends, Mardus the Swift, Dixila the Clever, Iknu the Daring. Han saw the echoes of these dangerous gods, these free gods, and he felt suddenly inclined to worship.

The atmosphere dragged on the Falcon, Han could feel it, slowing his ship in the way air always did. She was built for vacuum, and her shields fought every molecule that pinged against them. Normally, it was a minor concern, but with two cruisers hissing fire behind them, Han wanted speed. 

Bodhi did too, his fingers dancing over the toggles (he wasn't even looking, he was flying her like he was born for it) and rerouting the shield power, nearly all of it to the rear of the Falcon, where it deflected the fire. The Falcon gained a fresh burst of speed, the front shields no longer catching so much air, slicing through the clouds. But there was a reason ships didn't reroute that much shielding, and it was obvious when a temperature gauge started pinging, the nose of the ship becoming dangerously hot.

"Bodhi," Han warned weakly, a sudden throb of his temples making it hard to do more than that. 

Bodhi tossed Han a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, I'm watching." He turned his attention back to the Falcon and reached forward, smoothing his hand over her dashboard in a reassuring gesture. "You're doing wonderfully, darling. I know you can hold together just a little longer, for me." 

Bodhi's soothing command broke through even the pain around Han's skull, filling Han with a warm desire to do what Bodhi wanted, willing the Falcon to not let him down. 

Just as the temperature was climbing into permanent structural damage range, Bodhi gently nudged the Falcon into a slow spin that diffused the heat, and before it could build back up, the ship broke into vacuum, temperature sliding down immediately. Bodhi gave the ship a proud smile. "That's my girl." 

Han firmly refused to be jealous of his own ship. 

"Navigation," Bodhi muttered. 

Han reached forward, and Bodhi snapped, "You couldn't navigate your way out of a wet canvas bag." 

Han glared at him, managing through wooziness to pull up the navigation system and gesture at it before he collapsed back into the chair again to let Bodhi make the calculations.

"Hm." There was something like approval in Bodhi's grunt. "Suppose that's useful." 

The praise made Han want to preen. He reacted by folding his arms and glaring. "She's my ship." 

Bodhi turned to Han with a small smirk. "Sure, but she likes me." Bodhi licked his lips (that damn tongue again) and as the navigation calculations finished and keyed in the route. "Let's get out of here," he said, and leapt the Falcon into hyperspace. Only once the stars were streaking past and the Falcon was confirmed on course did Bodhi collapse back against the pilot seat. 

"That was beautiful," Han blurted out. 

"Yeah she is." Bodhi traced a finger along the yoke. "Your girl handles like a dream." 

"No. I mean yes, but..." Han blinked over at Bodhi, feeling woozy and misunderstood. "That was the hottest damn flying I've ever seen. You're beautiful." 

Bodhi shook his head, an echo of that nervous man Han remembered on his face. "Okay, that concussion is worse than I thought." 

"I mean it." Han drew his eyebrows down, feeling mulish. 

"I'll bet you do." Bodhi sounded amused. "You'd probably think a sandworm was beautiful right now if the light hit it right. Shoo." He jerked his head toward the back of the cockpit. "Go stick yourself in a med scanner and see if you're safe to go to sleep. And if you are, dose yourself with some painkillers and _sleep_. You're clearly delirious." 

Han made a grumbling protest, but a wave of dizziness made the world tip sideways, and it lacked any strength. Maybe painkillers and sleep wasn't the worst of ideas. 

* * *

Han woke up and felt entirely better. He yawned, rolling his neck back and forth, slight wince of pain but nothing too drastic. Han got to his feet and made his way back out to the Falcon's small common area. 

"Morning," Bodhi said as he entered, lounging back on one of the couches, mug of caf in front of him. He glanced up from a datapad he was scrolling through and gestured to a second mug. "We're landed. Chewie and Jyn and Cassian all evacuated fine, they beat us back. " 

"Good to hear," Han said, heat spreading along his chest as he stared at Bodhi. He had one arm spread out across the back of the couch, fingers slowly drumming along the cushion, and as Han was transfixed by those fingers he was also absolutely certain that whatever he had felt the night before was not due to the concussion. "When do we debrief?" he asked, grabbing for the mug in a defensive gesture, staring down at it so he didn't get caught staring at Bodhi instead. 

Bodhi hummed, a little pat pat pat of his fingers as he drummed them again. Inexorably, Han's gaze was dragged up, in time to see Bodhi give a tiny shake of his head. "I handled that a couple hours ago. You can just scan through the narrative, see if you have any additions." Bodhi smiled at him. 

Han flushed, shoving his head down into the mug as he took a sip, letting the glorious rush of heat and energy distract him. "How long was I out?" 

"Ten hours. Medical wanted to steal you but I threw your neuroscans at them and said sleep was the best thing for it. They agreed, as long as someone stuck around to watch." Bodhi gave a quick grin as he gestured to himself. "I'll get out of your way now. Medical would prefer if you checked in with them. " 

Bodhi stood, and started to head for the exit. Han, driven only by a certainty that he could not just let Bodhi walk out of there, bolted forward and blocked the door, nearly spilling his caf as he went. 

Bodhi blinked up at him. 

Han tried his rogue's smile, aware as he got older that it had always been a little flimsy—transparent to those that could read him. The question was, could Bodhi read him? 

Bodhi arched an eyebrow. "Can I help you, Solo?" 

"What happened to Han?" Han swallowed, edging a little closer to Bodhi. "I liked Han." 

"Surprised you remembered that." Bodhi tilted his head back to look Han in the eyes. Bodhi's gaze was piercing. "You were in bad shape." 

"Not so bad." Han took another step closer, close enough now that he could reach out and touch Bodhi if he wanted to. Well, no. Han knew he wanted to touch. The more important thing was whether or not Bodhi wanted to be touched. Han took a breath and went for it. "I remember the evening clearly enough to know that that was the sexiest damn flying I've ever seen." 

Bodhi coughed. "Ah. I thought...." 

"I remember," Han said dryly. "But no, it wasn't the concussion talking." 

Bodhi swallowed, slight shake of his head as looked away, then back at Han. Bodhi edged a step closer, too close now for a polite chat. "Is there a point to this conversation?" he asked, a thread of challenge in his voice. 

Han took Bodhi's stupidly beautiful face between his hands and kissed him. Bodhi was already moving to meet Han, his hands curling across the back of Han's neck, his mouth hot and insistent. 

"For the record," Bodhi gasped as Han shifted, starting to run his lips down Bodhi's neck, "I am not attracted to medical injury."

Han stopped, chuckling against Bodhi's neck. "Well that's good to hear. Sadism ain't my thing. So what does get you going?"

Bodhi leaned back, giving Han a considering once over. "Good-hearted disasters, apparently." 

"Disast—"

Han's protest was cut off when Bodhi started kissing him again, pushing Han around and down onto the couch. Bodhi nudged Han's legs apart and stood between them, taking advantage of the position to lift Han's jaw up, urging his mouth open. Han opened it willingly, happy to have the taste of Bodhi on his tongue, sharp heat and fresh caf dancing together in Han's mouth. 

Bodhi pulled back again, looking down at Han fondly, running his index finger over the shell of Han's ear. "Good-hearted disasters who love their ships. And are fine pilots themselves. And easy on the eyes." 

"Is anyone expecting you soon?" Han asked, shiver running through him as he reached forward, laying his hands along Bodhi's hips. 

"You know, I let everyone know I was going to be holed up here for the foreseeable future." Bodhi's finger traced down the line of Han's pulse. "I think I might have some free time." 

Han grinned up at him. "Well Bodhi, you saved our skins the yesterday, and I'm feeling _very grateful_." Han's fingers edged up under Bodhi's shirt. "Care for a demonstration?" 

Bodhi grinned back at him. "You know what Han? I think I would." 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for giving me a chance to write Bodhi being competent and Han being really, really attracted to that. It was fun!
> 
> [I’m on Tumblr,](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/sassysnowperson) feel free to say hi over there :D


End file.
